by K. C. Sivils
“There,” Heat mumbled, his drumming coming to an abrupt halt. “I think that’s Anna’s SUV. Looks like her mother is driving.”
“Wonderful,” Boucher muttered beneath his breath. “Mother’s just complicate things.”
“You should know,” Heat grumbled, getting out of the Pilot.
“Whoa, now,” an angry Boucher shouted, climbing out of the passenger door. “You leave Momma Boucher outa this!”
Sharon stopped the SUV abruptly as the passenger door flew open, and Anna scurried out. Heat watched as Anna ran to him gracefully, her arms spread wide for an embrace. Heat flinched at her touch as Anna wrapped herself around him while he remained motionless, unwilling to allow himself to savor her touch.
Boucher shook his head as he watched his best friend stand in mute silence, frozen in place. “This ain’t gonna go well,” he thought to himself.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
"I get that you have an issue with me, though you refuse to enlighten me in regards as to what it is I have done that is so heinous you had my friend murdered, kidnapped me, my daughter, and her best friend." Nick paused, watching the man's face for any tell that he'd struck a nerve. "You've made no demands of money, money that my wife can easily pay. Instead, all you do is make cryptic remarks about how I must confess my sin."
Excitement raced through Nick as he watched his captor, who showed no signs of emotion. The man sat impassively, listening and waiting. Nick smiled at the man, knowing each time he toyed with his captor, the stakes grew higher for himself and the girls. Gambling with money had lost much of its appeal. Nick found the new game he was playing to be much more fun.
"The problem is, sir, I have sinned so much in my life, it is quite difficult for me to narrow things down." His captor sat still; his demeanor tranquil as the man listened. "So, to help things along, I need to ask you a few questions. You know, help me to narrow things down so we can get squared away with this entire confession thing you are so determined to have me do.”
For a moment, a flicker of concern passed through the captor's eyes, and then it was gone. Nick smiled inwardly, his poker face on.
“For starters, why my daughter’s friend? Surely, Katie has not sinned against you?”
The captor rocked back and then forwards in his chair and ran his hands over the top of his thighs but said nothing. Other than the one movement, the man gave no indication he’d reacted to Nick’s question. That one tell exposed the captor's weakness, one Nick seldom suffered from in recent years. Whatever his captor's beef with him, it wasn't with Katie, nor would it likely be with Becca. The girls were simply leverage.
“Nor do I think my daughter has committed some sin against you and yours,” Nick ventured, hoping his captor would reveal another card in his hand. “Why did you feel the need to kidnap her?”
This time the man reacted without hesitation, making no effort to control his rage. His plain face became hideous as the anger twisted the man’s features into a cruel visage.
"Don't speak of your daughter that way. She might be innocent, but so was my daughter, as you know all too well. Unfortunately, this Katie had the misfortune of being present when my man made acquisition of your daughter.”
"Made acquisition? That's a unique way to describe kidnapping," Nick calmly replied, his voice indicating he was bored with the hand being played. "Let the girl Katie go. No harm done. We both agree she's done nothing wrong."
“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” was the gruff response.
"I see. You talk about my sins, yet, you seem to be committing a few yourself." To Nick's disappointment, the man's face returned to its bland expression, his emotions once again held in check. "Still, that helps to narrow things down a bit." Nick paused, staring directly into the man's eyes. "But not enough. There are quite a few daughters I've trifled with over the years, and you, sir, are hardly the first angry father I've had to deal with."
“This isn’t a game, Devereaux.”
"It isn't? It's not I who is making a game out of this, but you. You refuse to explain what you want from me other than some vague notion that I must confess my sin. You refuse to expand on what it is I may or may not have done. Sir, to be honest, this is becoming a bit of a bore.”
So quick was his captor’s reaction, Nick didn’t have a chance to react. Lunging from his chair, the man released a wild haymaker with his right hand that landed square on Nick’s jaw, rendering him unconscious.
---
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m not, Elijah.”
Boucher took a quick look at Anna, who was leaning against the passenger door, her cheek pressed against the window.
“I have to ask.”
He flinched at the sound of a heavy sigh to his right. It wasn’t his intent to hurt Anna, but the rapidity of how the situation was changing was dangerous. Two fights with Heat in a single day, even if just verbal, were not Boucher’s idea of fun. The second fight had been much longer and louder than their fight earlier in the day. Heat was on the verge of changing his mind and giving in when Anna had weighed in, begging Heat to go to South Breezed and rescue Becca and Katie. Boucher decided to cut his losses in hopes of influencing Heat later, when Anna was not present, and get him to rethink things. Things like calling in the police, surveilling the old, rundown plantation, and not charging in like bulls in a china cabinet no matter what they did.
“I didn’t know who else to turn to. Everybody kept telling me Heat’s the best at what he does. So, I got in touch with him.”
“You manipulated Heat,” Boucher stated bluntly. “You could have called him.”
“We both know that would have gotten me nowhere,” was Anna’s weak, empty response.
Boucher pondered his next response carefully. Anna was hurting, and despite the wrong she'd done to his man Heat, it was her daughter and another innocent girl they would be rescuing. There had been no mention of Nick Devereaux. Being cruel would make him feel better but would only hurt a fragile Anna, not to mention the fisticuffs that would follow when Heat found out.
“You hurt a lot of people. I hope you realize that." Boucher was surprised by his statement. He was even more surprised by what he said next. "Myself included. I mean, it's not like I had a thing for you, Anna. You were Heat’s girl. We were friends, or at least I thought we were. Then you up and just go. Not a word, not one word.”
He could feel Anna shrinking in her seat. Having spoken the words, Boucher felt a sense of relief. Like Heat, he’d held in his anger for years.
“Why? You were engaged to the man. You owed him an explanation, Anna.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Boucher slammed on the brakes and jerked the steering wheel to the right, sending the SUV skidding to a halt on the shoulder of the interstate.
He glared at Anna, shaking with anger.
“The hell you didn’t.”
“Don’t yell at me, Elijah,” Anna cried. “I can’t take it right now.”
“Can’t take it? You destroyed Heat! Destroyed him, you hear me?” Boucher slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “He hasn’t been able to move on because you never told him why you left like that! We tried everything to get in touch with you, to find out from your family and nothing!”
“Elijah, please,” Anna sobbed.
“No! You owe it to Heat! You need to tell someone why you broke the best man I’ve ever known in my life! What did he do to you that was so wrong you hurt him like that?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“I appreciate what you’re doing, James.”
"Sharon, this is my job. It's what I do for a living, nothing more. I'm charging your daughter a fortune for this job." Heat glanced at Sharon as he drove. "And I expect to get paid promptly and in full."
Heat saw Sharon flinch with unease in his peripheral vision, causing his stomach to churn out even more acid.
“About that, James.”
“Tell me Anna is good for it,” he demanded.
&n
bsp; “Eventually.”
Heat burped unexpectedly, leaving the taste of stomach acid in his mouth. He licked his teeth in a vain effort to remove the taste while he motioned at his glove box. "Please, Sharon, get me the antacid in there." Sharon fished around in the glove box, retrieved the bottle, and removed the childproof cap before handing it to Heat. It was her turn to grimace as Sharon watched Heat hold the bottle to his mouth and shake multiple tablets out and directly into his mouth. A loud crunching sound announced Heat was chewing the tablets as he handed the bottle back to Sharon.
“You know, you’re not supposed to take so many of those at one time.”
“Tell my stomach that. Now, what do you mean when you say Anna is good for it, eventually.”
Sharon could feel her own stomach churn in response to Heat's question. There was no point in lying, she decided.
"Nick has spent all of Anna's money. It will take her a little while to be able to pay you, but she will, I promise."
Heat seemed to shrug Sharon’s response off to her relief. He’d finish what he started and then fight with Anna over payment for his services.
An eighteen-wheeler sped by, shaking the Pilot in its wake. The turbulence seemed to agitate Heat a second time, causing him to squeeze the steering wheel till his knuckles turned white.
“Why, Sharon? Why did Anna do it?”
Knowing exactly what it was Heat was asking, Sharon attempted to deflect the question with her response. “I’m not sure I follow you, James.”
“Why did she just leave without so much as a goodbye? Why didn’t Anna ever tell me what it was I did wrong?”
Sharon reached for the glove compartment latch and opened it to buy time, removing the bottle of antacid. She extracted two and popped them in her mouth, noting the chalky taste of the cherry-flavored tablets. Sharon tossed the bottle back in the glove compartment with a flick of her wrist and shut it.
“Is this the time to discuss this, James?”
“Yes, it is,” Heat responded testily. “I deserve answers. I’m about to risk my neck to save a daughter and her friend that Nick Devereaux fathered. Not me, Nick Devereaux. Becca should have been my daughter, Sharon.” Heat pounded the steering wheel with both hands, causing the Pilot to swerve. “I think I have a right to know!”
Sharon sat still, hoping the two antacids would be enough to stop the churning in her stomach. “Please, James. Don’t let this stop you from helping Becca and Katie.”
"You know, Sharon," Heat responded through clenched teeth. "This is hard for me. First, Anna shows up, just shows up, and wants me to find Nick. Then this. Not one word in all the time that has passed. No answers. No explanations. Just, Heat, I need your help, oh, and the people you'll be dealing with are dangerous. Just how am I supposed to feel?
“James, I understand you’re upset.”
“No!” Heat slammed his right fist down on the dashboard, causing Sharon to jump in her seat in fear. “You don’t understand, Sharon! It didn’t happen to you!”
---
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try me, Anna. You had your reasons. They made sense to you at the time.”
"That was a long time ago, Boucher. Things have changed since then. I've changed, and I'm sure Heat's changed."
Unwilling to let Anna off the hook and hoping to get answers Heat needed, that he needed as well, Boucher pressed.
“I’m fixin’ to get shot at, well, possibly shot at, and so is Heat. You’re askin’ us to risk life and limb, and I get why, I do, Anna. But you need to stop and realize what it is you’re askin’ Heat to do.” Boucher snuck a quick peek at Anna to see if she was hearing him, not just listening. “You’re askin' him to risk his life to save that bum you abandoned Heat for. That daughter we're going to try and rescue could just as easily be Heat's daughter. Heck, as far as I'm concerned, it should be Heat's little girl. And me, I'm dumb enough to help Heat. So, far as I'm concerned, you owe me an answer as well."
There was no conceivable way around answering Boucher’s questions. Sick inside, Anna struggled to hold herself together. The years of packing away the doubts and the pain came bubbling up, clawing their way out and bringing with them a flood of uncontrollable tears.
Watching any woman cry was not on Boucher's list of things to do on a good day. Anna's distress was a painful thing to witness for him. But not painful enough for Boucher to prevent him from hardening himself to her tears.
"When you are done with cryin', I still want an answer to my question."
---
“Well?”
Five minutes had passed since the last exchange between the two men. Nick figured it was time to draw the session to a close. His captor was closer to revealing the motivation behind Nick's plight. Information that might allow Nick to plot a way out of his circumstances. The stakes were the highest he'd ever faced, and the anticipation, the pressure, was pure adrenaline. Nick had never felt more alive. He'd gambled with his own life before. But gambling with the life of his daughter and her friend made the experience that much sweeter.
"I'll tell you this much, Devereaux. It involved some of your friends." Nick's captor paused, his mind reviewing painful memories before he continued. "Of course, it involved my baby girl as well." The man's bland expression changed to one of sorrow mixed with a long-simmering rage. "Does that narrow it down for you any?"
"I've had lots of acquaintances, sir. Some that were, distasteful people even." It was Nick's turn to pause, to calculate his next words and how to best manipulate the situation. "It does narrow things down, but, and I apologize, I still do not know what you expect me to apologize for."
His captor shook his head in disbelief. "Devereaux, you are truly a piece of work." The man stood up and moved towards the door, where he stopped and looked down at Nick. "I'll tell you this much. I'm only going to give you one more chance to do the right thing. After that, if you still can't bring yourself to confess, then your daughter and her friend will pay the first installment for your transgressions."
Nick’s body shook as fear raced through his nervous system. His captor wasn’t playing around this time. Becca and Katie had been taken for a reason. Nick would have to have a plan when the man returned, or his daughter would pay the price for the wager he'd placed and lost.
“If you still can’t remember, Devereaux, your fate will be the same as that of your friends.”
“And that would be?”
The man smiled at Nick, a broad smile, one that displayed his white teeth. “You’ll be buried somewhere. What else do you think your fate will be?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Having spent more than her fair share of time playing Hollywood power games, Anna had long ago learned to sit in silence and keep her mouth shut. However, at stake at the moment was the need to make sure Boucher did not sway Heat in such a way that her ex-fiancé would change his mind about finding and rescuing Becca and her friend, Katie.
The Heat she’d known in the past would never have changed his mind once he’d decided to help someone. The cost to himself personally would not be taken into consideration once Heat’s mind was made up.
That was then. A lot of water had passed beneath the bridge since Anna had left for California. Heat wasn’t the same man he’d been then, and Anna understood she had no right to expect him not to have changed.
Not after what she’d done.
What had been meant to be a simple test to see what Heat would do, the proverbial female crap test had gotten out of hand. All Anna had wanted was for Heat to follow her to L.A, to prove he would stick by her side while she gave it her best shot to make it as an actress. To know beyond doubt, once and for all, that Heat was meant to be hers.
She hadn’t counted on Heat not following. Nor had Anna counted on landing a role the first week she was in La La Land. Overwhelmed by it all and emotionally vulnerable, Anna had been easy prey for the charming Nick Devereaux, her co-star in her first film. Nick had swept Anna off her fee
t with his charm, charisma, and good looks.
Together, Nick and Anna had become stars, the latest Hollywood “it” couple. Anna had confused Nick’s attention during the marketing blitz that accompanied the film’s release as a sure sign of devotion. Devotion Heat had not displayed by simply following Anna like she’d wanted.
Years later and wiser through wisdom gained through painful experience, Anna was all too aware of the mistakes she'd made. Testing the love of a good man who didn't play games and, as a result, didn't know how to recognize the game Anna had been playing with him was the first.
Marrying Nick Devereaux had been the second.
Pride and shame combined with old-fashioned stubbornness kept Anna married to the philandering conman. Divorcing Nick would mean admitting she'd made a mistake marrying her co-star. It would also mean dealing with the shame and guilt of how Anna had mistreated Heat by testing him. What had once been feelings of hurt and betrayal because Heat had not followed her like she wanted had turned to bitterness. Bitterness Anna directed at herself for not realizing all she'd had to do was pick up the phone and apologize. Humbling herself would have brought Heat to Hollywood, and in time, with effort, they would have been able to rebuild their relationship.
Only Anna had learned to be prideful. She was a movie star now, and Heat was just a beat cop. So, when the time came to help Anna through the turbulence that comes with newfound fame, Heat hadn't been there. With encouragement from Nick, Anna turned her back on Heat, blaming him for not following her to Hollywood.
Time had taught Anna the truth. Heat hadn't abandoned her. In his confusion, he hadn't known to follow the love of his life. Anna had abandoned Heat, and she'd never told him why. Worse, she'd married Nick, the father of her children, and a one-hit-wonder as a movie star.
Nick has saved his best acting for her, conning Anna into working hard and providing him with a lifestyle he would never have been able to provide for himself. Nick Devereaux worked just enough as an actor to keep Anna in check. Then he played the father card to keep Anna at bay when she learned of his indiscretions and gambling.